


A Higher Calling

by INFJgamer



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 23:02:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13727862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/INFJgamer/pseuds/INFJgamer
Summary: As Warden Cousland fights against the Calling, an opertunity to distract herself from the urge to charge daggers first in the Deep Roads presents itself.





	A Higher Calling

**Author's Note:**

> One shot set during the events of Dragon Age Inquisition shortly after Adamant. 
> 
> Possible introduction to more about these two.

My eyes begrudgingly open to meet the day. Truth be told I’ve spent the night flitting between fighting the song of the Calling and dreaming of a future that can never be mine. I can’t quite decide which is worse.

Even awake, the Calling continues to taunt me. Black talons picking through my mind, searching for painful memories for me to relive. The deaths of my family are dragged to the forefront and I’m reminded that I am alone. I am the last Cousland. I push back at the darkness recalling better times, drinking mead with Oghren, teasing Alistair as Wynne darned the holes in his stocks. It gives me a brief reprieve.

In the mess hall the others are bolting down their breakfast so they can have their daily dose of what we’ve come to call Null. The porridge feels like clay in my mouth, I can barely taste the sugar that I dusted over the top of it. The Calling seems to suck the joy out of everything even food.

While Null doesn’t cure the Calling, it helps dull the effects. Officially I found the recipe for Null in some archaic Warden text. The truth is it came to me by way of a raven. I found the arrogant bastard sat on my desk pecking at my best quill. I knew at once it wasn’t one of Leliana’s birds, they’re far better behaved and don’t have the audacity to take a crap on my paperwork. I was toying with the idea of throwing a dagger at it when I saw the note tied to its foot.

_Cousland,_

_Below are the instructions for preparing and administering a medicine that should help repress the effects of the Calling. If any of us are to make it through this, you need to find a way back from the darkness, think of this as a way to illuminate your path._

_P.S Excuse the raven he’s rather uncouth and yet to be house broken. He reminds of both a certain king and your dog._

_M_

I had the herbalists make it immediately. The first few doses were horrendous just as Morrigan had warned, I felt sick to my stomach and it seemed as though the very room was spinning. With each passing day the sickness and spinning grew less until I could take Null with only one notable effect, random clenching of my jaw. It always seems to happen at the most inopportune moments. I end up biting the inside of my cheek or having to talk with my teeth clamped together like that ventriloquist that came to Highever. Maybe that’s what Morrigan intended, she finally found a way to shut me up once in a while. Still I should be thankful, I’ll take random jaw clenching over random erections which is what happened to our poor quartermaster. Thank the Maker I’m a woman and am not plagued by such things. My arousal when it finds me is much more discrete.

I place the brown disc of Null under my tongue and wait for it to dissolve. It tastes like Nug shit, but it does the job. I feel the darkness recede to the back of my mind and that trademark wreckless, restless Cousland energy comes flooding back. Now it feels like it’s me and not the Calling steering my wagon, I turn my focus to the task at hand. A message from the Inquisition. The moment the note is passed to me I smell the faint trace of Leliana’s perfume. My face attempts to smile, but my clenched jaw ruins it. I look more like someone straining to take a shit.

I hear her voice as I read the note. It’s a request for information on a Warden named Blackwall. I spend the rest of the morning plying our archivists with food and drink while the hunt down any information on the Inquisition's Warden. It’s just as she suspected, the man’s a fraud. The real Blackwall is dead and gone, however this imposter seems to be carrying on in his honour and doing a good job by all accounts. While Leliana needs to know the truth, I’m loath to send a raven. If this information fell into the wrong hands it could have dire consequences. Better the news is delivered in person, but who do I send? Tendrils of doubt spawned by the Calling pollute my thoughts. Every idea I have is stupid and pointless. I am stupid and pointless. How can I hope to help the Inquisition when I can’t help myself? I’m only good for one thing and that’s fighting the Darkspawn. I want to kill every last fucking one of them! I’ll go down to the Deep Roads daggers drawn and I won’t stop until the only monster that’s left in the darkness is me! My fist crumples the note as I rage, the action causes a waft of Leliana’s perfume to rise up and pull me back to the light.

She writes to me as much as her duties and resources allow. She tells me stories and tidbits of gossip, always keeping it cheerful. Like Morrigan, she’s trying to push back the dark tide of the Calling. To save me from drowning in the blood of Darkspawn. In her last letter she told me that her friend Josie had quite the crush on the leader of the Inquisition. I’ve met her a few times, very sweet and quite innocent, well at least until you play cards with her, then she’s as sharp and deadly as any blade in my armoury.

It occurs to me that I could go to Skyhold and delivery the information myself. My mouth goes dry with anticipation at the thought of occupying the same space as Leliana. Maker how long has it been since I saw her last, let alone lay with her? I think upon our last union and ache for her touch, the memory of her skilled tongue elicits a heat and a wanting. For the second time today I find myself thanking the Maker I’m a woman. I doubt the archivists would want to know that I’m aroused to within an inch of my life at the memory of the Inquisition spymaster.

Perhaps I should excuse myself. Retreat to my chamber and try to take the edge off of the craving that threatens to consume me. One of the archivists asks if I want the privy. I realise at once I’m smiling with my jaw clenched again, pulling that straining while shitting face. No wonder he thinks I want the privy. I make my excuses and leave. My feet lead me to the store room and I find myself packing a bag with provisions. The quartermaster calls to me “Going somewhere Cousland?”

“I need to pass on some sensitive information to the Inquisition. I can’t chance a raven, so I’ll be delivering the information to their spymaster in person.” I reply.

I’m not lying, just being selectively factual. While I fully intend to pass on the information, it’s not the only thing I intend to exchange with her. The last thing to go into my pack is enough doses of Null for the journey there and back with a few days spare just in case I get waylaid. The last thing I want is to run out and find myself prowling around in the Deep Roads. My last stop is the garden where we grow our medicinal herbs. Scattered amongst the elfroot are a few Andraste's Grace. The perfect gift.

As I ride out of Weisshaupt I find myself praying. “Maker have mercy for I long to turn my back on my duties and to succumb to desire. Just as your bride Andraste sought to be at your side, I long to be with my Leliana. You have taken much and tested me often. I have done my best to be your steadfast servant, to be resolute in my duties to the Grey Wardens. Forgive me Maker for this wanton dereliction of duty, I am not you, not devine. I am flesh and blood, flaws and needs and I need her. She is as much my salvation as you are, and as I recall it was you that aligned our paths to cross. I’ve apologised to you for countless misdeeds in my life, but I shall not repent or deny my love for her. I’m not sorry for loving her, but that for a while I’m choosing to place my own happiness above others. I vow to return to this place and continue my service once I have seen her. Until then, I beseech you to watch over those that I leave behind.”

My journey is uneventful, the only Darkspawn I encounter are the ones that plague my dreams each night. Most people give me a wide berth, since the whole business at Adamant and Stroud’s death people have grown suspicious of the Grey Wardens. I can’t say as I blame them, nor do I mind being left alone. The peace and quiet is a refreshing change from constantly being bombarded with requests, requisitions and questions.

By the end of the third day I’m coming up on Skyhold, when I hear the unmistakable sound of arrows hitting a target. I dismount and navigate the woods in occluded moonlight until I find her stood in a clearing firing arrow after arrow at the target. Nock, draw, loose. Nock, draw, loose until all of her arrows are spent. As she heads over to inspect her performance I give an impressed whistle “Remind me never to piss you off.”

As she turns to face me the clouds part and the pair of us are bathed in lustrous moonlight. I take it as a sign that the Marker approves of my coming here. Her lips find mine and for the first time in what feels like an eternity, all is calm within me. There is no Calling, no darkness or rage. There is only love.

 


End file.
